


SuzaLulu Headcanons That Came at 3am and Came True in Our World

by mochakururugi



Series: Modern AU SuzaLulu/LuluSuza [1]
Category: Code Geass, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: 21 Savage, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Real World, Body Worship, Celebrities, Comedy, Doja Cat, Domestic Boyfriends, Gay Bar, Husbands, M/M, Mac is a little shit XD, Married Couple, Modern Era, Paddy's Pub, Romance, Songfic, Stereotypes, just mac being a perv, no danny devito, post malone - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:00:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23470576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochakururugi/pseuds/mochakururugi
Summary: A series of stories featuring our Bi Kings/Husbands Suzaku and Lelouch living through things.THIS STORY IS WRITTEN BY ZARA_A
Relationships: Kururugi Suzaku/Lelouch Lamperouge | Lelouch vi Britannia
Series: Modern AU SuzaLulu/LuluSuza [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688449
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	1. How Mac got played by Suzaku and Lelouch

**Author's Note:**

> Suzaku had a long day from work and decides to head over to Paddy's for a nightclub because he had no choice. Mac and his groin lay eyes on Suzaku for the first time and his year-long hobby of watching hentai and Japanese porn gives him the confidence to charm the married Suzaku. 
> 
> It doesn't work
> 
> I love Danny Devito, enjoying my Hulu, and a five or six-month obsession over SuzaLulu inspires me to seek to have this written. 
> 
> THIS IS A COMMISSIONED PIECE THAT WAS WRITTEN BY THE INCREDIBLE AUTHOR, ZARA_A

Suzaku wasn’t sure about this bar in particular. From the outside, it certainly looked like nothing special, and with his and Lelouch’s combined salaries they were used to frequenting the nice places of the world: the luxurious, five-star restaurants of Britain, Paris, New York. He wrinkled his nose. Yeah, this place definitely was a dump. With a scoff, he turned away, straightening out his heavy coffee-coloured jacket in distaste. For starters, he was dressed too well to step inside a dive bar, even if the prospect of a late-afternoon drink was appealing. He’d unexpectedly had the afternoon off from the prestigious law firm he worked at when a big client had pulled their case and decided to resolve the possible corporate fraud internally.

Then again, this bar - “Paddy’s bar,” it was called, a name a little out of place in this part of America, surely - was relatively close to Suzaku and Lelouch’s house. If it was acceptable, Lelouch might even be convinced to go a couple of times, even it was just to be the wealthy power couple of the room: and, after all, as a lawyer, you grew fond of having a quick afternoon drink.

The place seemed to be styled after an old-fashioned Irish pub, although Suzaku wasn’t entirely sure what that was meant to look like. Despite its claims to authenticity, it really did look like a set of mouldering doors with chipped green paint. He’d spent too long deliberating and wasting precious time he could be using to catch up with work. If he had a productive afternoon, he might even be able to get some evenings off this week and set up a romantic night out with his husband.

“Not today,” he declared to the uninviting pub, turning away. Suzaku took two steps before he heard the door creak open. The man rolled his eyes, running a hand through his brown hair and letting his face settle into a stony expression. He’d spent too long outside, and now one of this miserable place’s owners was coming to convince him inside?  
  
“Are you having a slow afternoon,” he said before the guy who’d just emerged could speak. The question was phrased like a statement, with biting implications. “Well, sorry, I can’t make it today. Maybe another time.”

“Surely I can convince you,” the pub’s manager said. He was wearing a garishly green tank top, of all things to wear on a day of moderate temperature, with the name of the pub emblazoned across it.

“No, I don’t think so,” Suzaku said. He considered reaching for his phone just to look busy.

“Let me give you a discount,” Mac said. There must be some way to get this guy at least through the doors of the bar. He considered it one of the crucial first steps to wooing patrons. Never mind that the patrons saw it as an essential way to get inside rather than as purely a way to approach the overly confident man.

“Hah, the drink better be free if you’re going to convince me,” Suzaku said, confident the matter would be promptly let go. After all, this was a relatively competitive area for businesses, Lelouch had told him; the guy wouldn’t just go around giving out free stuff to random people on the street.

Mac saw a shining light, a chance to finally cultivate a proper relationship. Or at least a hookup. He’d throw free drinks at an Asian hottie any day! He’d blame it on one of his friends, or...would loose business partners be the term? Mac made the decision to throw either Charlie or Dennis under the bus once they tallied up the profit for the month. The guy looked like he’d need a lot of free drinks to even consider Mac as an option. Actually, now that he thought about it, Mac thought he’d seen the attractive young man with a black-haired dude.

_That’s fine, that’s whatever,_ Mac decided. “Asians are all polygamous, anyway, right,” he muttered under his breath as he opened the door for Suzaku, effectively confusing the niche traditions of ancient Saudi Arabia with the rest of the continent.

Suzaku took this as a form of a social experiment. One where he was the conductor of the experiment, obviously, and this oily-haired man so clearly besotted with him was the test subject. Suzaku examined the drinks menu, wincing as the laminated surface felt sticky to the touch.

“May I recommend the Belgian-style ale?” Mac suggested, already going to the tap.

“Belgian? Isn’t this meant to be an Irish pub?”  
“What, you mean...like authenticity…?”  
“Well, yes,” Suzaku said, then sighed and pulled his phone from his pocket. “If you’re still giving me a free drink, make it the most expensive one you have. Wine, cocktail, whatever, just not shitty beer.”  
  


“You have beautiful eyes,” he said. “Green.”  
“Green?” Suzaku said, looking up from his phone. “My husband can come up with much better descriptions than that.”  
Mac hesitated, running a tongue over his teeth, mouth half-open in thought. “You’re Japanese, right?”  
“Not really any of your business,” Suzaku said, wondering if he should feel pity. The man’s hairline was receding a little, but his age was strangely difficult to place. “Does it matter?”

  
“Well. Later this evening, you know...it might.”  
“Say what?” Suzaku clicked on Lelouch’s profile and started an indiscreet text message conversation. _Getting hit on at the bar,_ he typed. Their relationship was secure and trusting enough that he was comfortable telling Lelouch all this; it wasn’t like the black-haired man could get jealous over a relationship that definitely was not going to become a thing. _Guy’s a perv._

Even though Lelouch was at work, the text bubble popped up instantly, no effort spared for when he was concerned about his husband.

_Just leave_ , Lelouch suggested.

_But it’s kind of funny,_ Suzaku replied.

“Ok, enough teasing,” Mac said, pouring himself a beer. He scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve watched a bunch of films. Well, sort of like films...nothing that weird...can’t quite remember the Japanese name for it.” He made a series of strange noises that sounded vaguely to Suzaku like an attempt at imitating Japanese. Suzaku didn’t hide his confusion and was pleased to see the other man flush.

“What kind of film?”  
Mac winked. “The good kind.”  
“Hentai?” Suzaku guessed. “That explains a lot.”  
“Yeah, that’s it! Go on then.”  
“Go on what?” Suzaku was nonplussed.

“Well, can you moan? Gasp? You’ve heard hentai, then? Those anime chicks, they’re so damn hot; I mean, if you could do that…”  
  


“Excuse me?”

Mac rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows Korean guys can do it. I read it online.”  
“So it must be true,” Suzaku supplied, feeling uncomfortably fetishised.

“Yeah, I read something about BTS, you know, those Japanese - sorry, Korean - guys, and they could do all kind of stuff. Kinky shit, and everything.”  
  
“I’m guessing you read fanfiction, then,” Suzaku said, pushing his drink aside in case Mac was planning to date-rape him. What a creeper. “Korea’s quite a conservative country.”

He picked up his phone again. _Ok, now how should I react to a douche?  
What level of douche? _

_Pretty much the highest level it gets. Can’t see how this ass could get much worse._

_Throw something at him,_ Lelouch suggested.

_I thought you’re meant to be a mastermind,_ Suzaku replied.

_Sue him?_ Lelouch suggested once more.

_Why don’t you come and see?_

_I get off at nine tonight,_ Lelouch replied. _But definitely tomorrow. Get some revenge._

_Revenge?_ Suzaku was fairly confident he’d be pushed to revenge by the end of his little dialogue.

“What’s your name?” he asked in irritation.

“I’m Mac,” he said with a smirk.

_That’s a dumb name,_ Suzaku considered saying. He hesitated and then said so.

“Well, what’s your name, then?” Mac replied scornfully.

“Suzaku,” he replied. “Suzaku Kururugi-Lamperouge.”

“That’s a fancy name for a fancy man. You sure you’re Japanese? Sounds kinda Chinese.”  
“It really doesn’t.” Suzaku wouldn’t be surprised if Mac was beating one out beneath the faded wood countertop of the bar, considering how shiny with lust the man’s eyes were at the prospect of Suzaku being one of the three nationalities he’d already listed.

There was an awkward silence for a few seconds. Suzaku decided to take that as his opportunity to make a swift escape. If Mac started to try and talk again Suzaku would just sweep out of the door, confident that he had upheld his dignity while Mac had so obviously squandered his on this failed flirtation. “Bye,” Suzaku said shortly, picking up his briefcase from under the table.

“Dude, just let go and have some fun!” Mac called after him. Suzaku paused in the doorway as he heard a succession of awful sounds, like a little puppy getting beaten with a stick. He turned around with a feeling of mild trepidation.

There were no dogs in sight. He fought back a laugh as Mac let out another panting moan at a squeaky pitch, drawing the attention of the two or three real patrons of the bar. For god’s sake, was the man really trying to recreate hentai moans in public? What a weird man. Suzaku gave an awkward smile, knowing full well it probably looked like the early stages of rigour mortis. If he and Lelouch were planning on an act of revenge, then it would be better not to burn that bridge. Or alternatively, they could just both avoid the dive of a bar for the rest of the foreseeable future.

  
Both Suzaku and Lelouch were respected members of the public and fairly well-known about town, at least in the upper circles. It was probably better not to start a brawl for no reason.

“Yup, see you again never,” Suzaku muttered.

“See you another time?” Mac said desperately, hurrying to the doorway and calling out into the street like a plaintive maiden. “Maybe at Gay Night?”

  
Suzaku smirked at the comedic timing and then ignored the desperate bartender, strolling back down the street to his home.

*

“Gay night?” Lelouch said, sounding suspicious. He put a hand on Suzaku’s shoulder, manoeuvring the other man’s considerable head of hair out of the way so that he could see the Facebook advertisement. “This man didn’t do this just for you, did he?”  
  
“No, it looks like it's a long-running event,” he said. “People have posted about it from last year.”  
“Looks like they survived, at least,” Lelouch said. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have let you go.”  
“You know you can’t stop me from doing anything,” Suzaku said, but in a light tone.

“Pfft,” Lelouch said, crossing his arms and looking down at Suzaku with knowing purple eyes. “I’ll come and watch. What’s your plan?”  
  


Suzaku frowned, pretending to stroke an imaginary beard. “Remember when we went to that rave?”  
“No!” Lelouch protested. “You can’t go out like that, it’s not even summer. Your ass will freeze off.”  
“I’ll wear my jacket over it,” Suzaku said, the vision of the said outfit coming back fully back to him, causing him to question even his own decision. “And I’ll just wear the top.”  
“You mean harness,” Lelouch said, almost in wonder. “Damn, Suza, this dickhead’s going to think you’re kinky.”

Suzaku snorted. “Well, he definitely thinks he’s got a date. He seems like the kind of guy who;d expect all that straight off.”  
“Classless,” Lelouch said. “Well, I’m incredibly tempted to ask...but I won’t. It’ll be more fun to see it all play out in real time.”  
  


*

Gay Night seemed to be a long-standing tradition at Paddy’s, judging as the tattered outside of the dive bar was supuriously decorated with a rainbow banner and a few sad-looking strands of rainbow ribbon. Despite the owners’ lack of decorating skills, the sheer amount of pounding music coming from the pub suggested it hadn’t failed to attract patrons. As they got closer to the source of both pounding music and wan gayness, Suzaku gestured at Lelouch to step away from him. The other man reluctantly complied, letting go of his hand and glancing warily at the bar. Neither of them was that into the party scene, and especially now that they were wealthier cheap parties were far down on the list of either of their ideas of a fun time.

Suzaku put a hand over the dingy window of the pub, scrubbing it of condensation, and ran the damp hand through his soft hair, turning it damp and messing it up. “Try not to be too obvious,” he said lightly to Lelouch. “Don’t go to the back of the pub and brood, or everyone will be looking at you.”  
  


With a grin, the two parted at the door and Suzaku went straight to the bar. Sure enough, there was Mac, hovering hopefully in view of the door. “What’s that?” Suzaku asked with a smile, sitting down at the bar and leaning over, letting his coat slip to reveal his bare chest.

Mac glanced down at his hands. “Uh. A cloth?”  
“Nice,” Suzaku said. “Looks a bit dirty to be cleaning glasses with. If you get what I mean.”  
“Yeah,” Mac said, smiling and laughing as if the innuendo made sense to him, even if Suzaku had literally made it up on the spot. “Dirty. Huh.”

“About last time,” Suzaku said. “I’m sorry I left in such a rush.”  
“Yeah, you kind of did,” Mac said, in a tone that suggested he was the one who had been unfairly wounded. “I was worried I scared you off. With my charm, of course.”  
“Your charm,” Suzaku said, sucking his teeth. _Definitely your charm._ “Couldn’t compete with those beautiful noises I heard.”

Mac’s eyes brightened. “Oh, when I moaned? When you were leaving? Yeah! I thought, you know, in hentai-”  
Suzaku glanced down, looking significantly up at Mac at the mention of hentai. He bit his lip as suggestively as his dignity would allow him to. “Would you rather we take this somewhere more private?”  
  


Mac nodded eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, we have a back room,” he said, pushing through a throng of people and glancing back at Suzaku to check he was following. “Damn, it’s all coming together,” Mac said, and Suzaku was surprised he had the balls to actually say that aloud at merely the promise of hooking up; let alone in front of the said hookup.

Suzaku pushed past him through the crowd, the patrons of the pub bobbing up and down to the loud music. Mac opened a metal door, handle creaking, and Suzaku stepped through into the backroom beyond. He could handle himself if this went south, but he was pretty sure the other man’s dick was doing all the thinking.

They were in some kind of store room. Pretty roomy, actually, and Mac even went so far as to switch on the lights. Suzaku pulled his coat off and stepped up to the other man, looking down on him with a suggestive smirk.

“Wow, what are you wearing?” Mac asked. “Wait, are you a member of that Chinese band BTS?”  
“No,” Suzaku said with a light frown, trying desperately to keep the fake atmosphere of sexual tension alive. “I thought you were into hentai.”

“Damn, that too,” Mac said, pulling off his own shirt. He quickly unbuttoned his tight jeans. “Come here,” he crooned to Suzaku.

  
“I don’t want to be all constrained like this,” Suzaku complained. “Help me take this off,” he continued, gesturing to the shiny black leather harness circling his muscular torso.

Mac’s sweaty hands fumbled with the main buckle at the back. “An outfit for two,” Mac said.  
“Yeah, I need another person to get it off,” Suzaku said. “Tell you what: why don’t you try it on?”  
  
“Me?” Mac asked. He frowned. “But you’re meant to be the hentai boy. I don’t want to have to do all the moaning.”  
“This is how they do it in real Japan,” Suzaku reassured.

Suzaku helped Mac into the harness, noticing the man’s erection. He hooked the chest strap over the man’s arms, effectively pinning both to his sides. Mac made a noise of protest, but Suzaku had already tied the strap.

  
“Are you wearing underwear?” Mac said hopefully. “I hope not. Anime chicks don’t.”  
“Of course I’m wearing underwear,” Suzaku said, tone turning from flirtatious to biting in an instant. “God, with a pervert like you I think I’d wear a full chastity belt.” He put a hand on each of Mac’s shoulders, pushing the confused man forwards.  
  
“Let me get the door for you,” he said. “Just give me a moment.”  
“Wait, we’re not going to bang?” Mac said. “Well, that sucks. Jesus. I can’t believe I wasted all that time on you.”

Suzaku pulled out his phone and quickly texted Lelouch. _Can you get everyone to look towards the back,_ he wrote. _I’m going to sling this bitch out of here like a trussed-up turkey._

_Alright,_ Lelouch replied, and he could sense the reluctance in the tone of the text from the generally reserved man.

Suzaku had a good look around the storage room, looking around at the boxes of files. He picked up a paper, idly passing the time until he heard confirmation from Lelouch. He raised his eyebrows at the bill. “Aren’t these the drinks you advertised as being on discount?” Suzaku said. “Or is this just a classic example of a Facebook scam?”  
“If they’re shit-faced, does it really matter?” Mac said, wriggling his shoulders as he tried to shrug. “Look, it was Dee’s idea. Can you let me go now? Are you a cop?”  
  


“I’m a lawyer,” he said easily, enjoying the sudden flash of fear crossing Mac’s face. The underwear-clad man seemed to wilt, losing his bravado.

“Don’t sue us, please.”  
“I’ll ask the floor about that,” Suzaku said. “How about I just highlight the discrepancy between your customer’s bill and the discount prices of the drinks they’ve ordered? I do some pro bono work, now and then.”  
  
“Bono what?” Mac asked, then glanced down at himself. “Hey, look, it’d be kind of embarrassing if we left now...maybe we should wait a couple of minutes….don’t want to get blue balls, after all…”

He heard the loud buzz of the crowd suddenly escalate into a roar of laughter and jeers. With a smirk, Suzaku opened the door and kicked Mac out. The man fell to the floor with a thud, rolling to face up in an attempt to struggle to his feet.

  
“Someone’s fuck buddy left him!” a man shouted, and the pub erupted into yet another wave of laughter.

Suzaku grabbed his coat and waited until a suitable amount of people had swarmed around Mac in curiosity, then slipped unnoticed into the crowd, the incriminating paper clutched in his fist. He shouldered his way through the crowd until he reached Lelouch, sitting near by the windows in the far corner of the pub. “Look what I found,” he said to his actual partner.

Lelouch took it languidly, raising an eyebrow. “Interesting, interesting,” he said. “Well, either you can stand up and tell everyone now, or we can wait until we get home and post an irritated review.”  
“I’ll stand up,” Suzaku said. He clambered to the bar and stood up, waving the paper.

“We’ve been cheated!” He shouted, safe in the knowledge that no one would recognise him looking this dishevelled. Mac was right about one thing: everyone was too far gone to really place faces. “They’ve scammed us of our money! Just look at the evidence! One of the owner’s is over there! The BDSM guy!”  
  


He felt several sets of drunken eyes swivel towards him, and a general belugared roar went up from the patrons. They didn’t even need to see the physical evidence; the idea of evidence was proof enough once you’d had enough discount drinks. “That bastard!” a woman shrilled, and Suzaku hopped off the counter as a few more people, probably co-owners, emerged from upstairs in confusion, only to be accosted by angry bar-goers.

“Let’s go,” Lelouch said. “I need a shower. This place stinks of alcohol.”  
  


They strolled out of the pub. Suzaku turned and crossed his arms, feeling rather satisfied. He held out his hand to Lelouch, palm flat in the uncharacteristic offer of a high-five, letting out a chuckle when the other man slapped his palm.

“Paddy’s bar isn’t doing so well, is it?” Lelouch muttered.

“Apparently not,” Suzaku said, turning away from the bar, where the silhouettes of brawling drunks were just about visible through the windows. “I fancy a quiet night in now.” Their revenge was complete, Mac was humiliated, and Suzaku was pleased with his own ingenuity.

  
  



	2. Beerbongs & Bentleys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suzaku is hired to be a video performer for Post Malone's Rockstar ft 21 Savage. He vibes with Post and 21.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANOTHER COMMISSIONED PIECE, A SONGFIC, FROM ZARA_A It's just... I love putting my OTPs in random everyday things like this.

Ayy, I've been fuckin' hoes and poppin' pillies  
Man, I feel just like a rockstar (star)  
Ayy, ayy, all my brothers got that gas

The whole point of creating a music video was coming up with an artistic vision. Suzaku and the other dancers, or dancers moonlighting as actors, understood that perfectly yet had little individual creative control. Suzaku did not mind that particularly, as his interpretation of dance was far more based on its physical aspect, rather than whatever deeper interpretation a lot of his colleagues gave it. Sure, each movement did mean something, and with every step he took, and in each choreography, he made sure to inject just enough of his own emotion to stop himself standing out from a crowd of impassioned dancers. His heart was in stunt performance, which was this gig had seemed perfect. 

Suzaku’s partner, Lelouch, had given it the all-clear and even went so far as to say it might be an interesting opportunity. That was high praise from the man. They’d both studied liberal arts, but that was where their career similarities ended. Suzaku always said Lelouch had a penchant for the dramatic but had yet to encourage him to dip his toes into the cutthroat world of theatre; plain television or movie acting was far below his boyfriend, as far as the said boyfriend was concerned. He’d always been a little indie. 

Suzaku, meanwhile, having experienced the mild frustration of living with those with indie tastes - back in the day he, Lelouch, and a horde of Lelouch’s sensitive artistic friends had shared a house - had thrown himself into the cool side of dance. Stunt-performance, mock sword-fighting, real martial arts. Perfect. 

The song was pretty good actually, he thought to himself, squinting through the glass at Post Malone. Although the artist looked intimidating, a typical rapper, he was concerningly polite to the point where Suzaku wondered whether the real ‘hard’ Post Malone had a body double stashed somewhere. The lyrics weren’t particularly relatable. Suzaku wasn’t the kind to do drugs, and although Lelouch might have dabbled in his more artistic days, he had matured into a very rational and logical person, a turnaround that would seem shocking to anyone who didn’t live with the guy and so couldn’t hear him singing in the shower every morning. Some of the other dancers started headbobbing, all of them watching the tattooed young man opposite murmur and spit his way through the song. The lighting of the illuminated booth, through the glass, looked atmospheric and warm, creating an intimate atmosphere where the future performers of the music video could get into a gangster spirit. 

Suzaku coughed. He had no problem with acting tough: he’d won a fair share of fights with his skills. Some of the other guys looked a little old to be doing stunts, but he obviously kept that to himself. It was a vaguely amusing situation. Malone was there, lit up like an angel from heaven in his spacious booth, performing for a watchful audience, and they were all crammed into the tiny sound-adjusting side like sweaty salarymen on the underground train. 

And they always be smokin' like a Rasta  
Fuckin' with me, call up on a Uzi  
They make that thing go grrrata-ta-ta (pow, pow, pow)  
Post Malone was satisfied that everyone he’d invited had actually listened to the song. There was always a chance the performers would be either too busy or too lazy to understand what exactly they’d been hired for. 

Suzaku pulled out his phone, wondering whether it was worth sending a link to the tune to Lelouch. The vibe would certainly escape him, but he might find it interesting. A smile played on Suzaku’s lips as he had an idea. He’d text Lelouch the lyrics and see how he reacted. If it was funny enough, maybe he could screenshot it and send it to Malone himself. He’d seen enough prank youtube videos to get a good gist of how the whole charade was meant to go. It depended whether Lelouch was in a particularly observant mood. 

Hey, Lel, he typed, and show up, man, he added, splicing the next lyric from the song where they had left off in the pre-shooting briefing. The ironic thing was that his boyfriend probably would show up, if not on the first day of the shooting then most certainly on the second day. The brief had mentioned Malone’s artistic vision of ‘lots of blood’, after all. 

I will, the reply pinged back. Obviously? You’re doubting me?

Them the shottas, Suzaku replied. Lelouch definitely didn’t know the song. It was whether he would take the bait in an amusing way, something to keep him entertained through the duller makeup and costume preparation. 

What’s that mean? Are you using guns? Seems a bit on the nose. Trust Lelouch to both bring America’s wider socio-economic issues and then analyse a potential effect of discussing them...into a prank. Suzaku shook his head. Try as he might, they would just never go viral as a comedic couple. 

When my homies pull up on your block, he replied cryptically. 

“You alright?” a voice said, and he jumped, switching his phone screen off, like a student caught texting in class. Suzaku let out a sigh of relief as he realised it was Post Malone, rather than the stricter-looking director. It felt surreal, but they’d actually met twice before. Once backstage at a concert, which sort of counted but not really, given that they’d had a very brief conversation and Malone was still starting out as an artist. The second time was at a party, one of the many perks of being in the media industry, when Lelouch had seen Post Malone on the third-floor stairs and Suzaku had bumped shoulders with him.

Ok, maybe they didn’t have much of a camaraderie next. But from the singer and rapper’s open expression and slight smile, amusing dancing in his eyes, Suzaku felt confident enough to laugh. “I was texting my boyfriend your song,” he said. 

“Oh, really? Is he a fan? He’s got good taste.” The last part was said humorously, a change in tone to the usual brashness of Malone’s genre. Then again, 21 Savage was late, and although the rapper was an overall nice guy he had an intimidating aura. 

“Guess I have to admit it’s no to both,” Suzaku said. “I’m trying to play a prank on him.”

“The texting one?” Post Malone shook his head, scratching his eyebrow. He’d walked behind the stuntman for long enough to get a good eyeful of his rather flashily large phone screen. “That only works if they’re completely out of it. From your stony face back in the rec room I’m guessing you don’t pop many pills, etcetera.” He made a noise of amusement in his throat. 

“Well, you know, depends on how much I’m - uh - vibing,” Suzaku said, wanting not to come across as a gym-obsessed meathead and marshall art nerd. 

“Vibing, dude. No worries about that. We’ll all be vibing in here once we start shooting.” Malone stretched out his hand in front of him, pulling it through the air as if outlining his artistic vision before Suzaku’s starstruck eyes. “Blood,” he said in a dramatic, raspy tone, breaking out of the softness of his voice for the first time. “Lots of blood. Anyway, you look familiar. Swear 21 was talking about you.”

“Nah,” Suzaku said. “I’m not famous or anything.”

“Don’t you have a youtube channel? Suzaku Martial Arts, something like that…”

Suzaku winced, aware the gig was up and he was well and truly exposed as a devoted acolyte to the nerdiness of practising martial arts as a hobby. He was proud of his heritage, and if there was samurai blood in him, then being skilled in kendo seemed only natural. Perhaps the lightsaber spinning tutorials he had put up were a risky choice. The sheer amount of ad revenue it generated was enough to put him and Lelouch up in a four-star hotel for a night, so it was worth any embarrassment for the fun of a romantic getaway. “It’s a little side-project,” he said, fighting to contain an awkward laugh. 

Ayy, ayy, switch my whip, came back in black  
I'm startin' sayin', "Rest in peace to Bon Scott"  
Ayy, close that door, we blowin' smoke  
She ask me light a fire like I'm Morrison  
Ayy, act a fool on stage  
Prolly leave my fuckin' show in a cop car

They walked past the floor to ceiling glass windows of the hotel they were shooting in. It was conveniently close to Malone’s label, right across the street in fact, but it was still pretty nice of him to sing Rockstar to them personally. The song was stuck in Suzaku’s head now, which wouldn’t be ideal given it was all he was going to hear as he learnt the fight choreography. Depending on how quick the others were - some looked like veteran performers, others like random middle-aged men who’d been plucked off the street because they vaguely resembled Yazuka members - Suzaku was about to hear Malone’s song for a good few hours. 

Suzaku hopped onto the sidewalk as a black car pulled up. It was understated, but with a thunderously loud engine that practically rumbled as a dishevelled young man jumped out of the door and swayed onto the pavement. They stared at one another for a moment before 21 Savage’s face split open in an uncharacteristic grin. Suzaku was still trying to simultaneously get over and conceal his surprise at the rapper’s choice of vehicle. It made more sense when he realised Savage hadn’t been driving, that it was either a chauffeur or a friend’s car, and that 21 was perhaps just a little bit high. 

“Post, my man,” he began. “You brought Suzaku Martial Arts all the way here!”

“I mean, you can just call me Suzaku, or even Suza-” he began.

21 Savage shook his head, shaking his wrist around in a feeble imitation of lightsaber twirling, muscles too relaxed to attain the Jedi-like rigidity and strength Suzaku prized. “You’re like Darth Vader or something. Pretty damn cool.”

He paused, eyes flicking upwards to the clear sky above, clearly racking his brains for something or another. Normally he was quiet, but it seemed that single star wars reference in one of his raps had been more than just a passing one. Mumble rappers were rarely particularly outspoken. It was part of the brand. 

Ayy, shit was legendary  
Threw a TV out the window of the Montage  
Cocaine on the table, liquor pourin', don't give a damn

“Shit’s legendary,” he finally pronounced.  
“Alright, let’s get inside,” Malone said wrly. “I’m excited to start actually filming this thing. It’s going to be great, and we’ve got a great team,” he said, trying to include Suzaku in the conversation. 

Darth Vader’s lightsaber skills were only good when he was still Anakin. In the battle with Luke, which was probably what Savage was thinking about, Vader used brute strength rather than anything that could be linked with the Kendo-lightsaber fusion Suzaku had come up with and recorded. Obviously, he didn’t say that. 

Dude, your girlfriend is a groupie, she just tryna get in  
Sayin', "I'm with the band"  
Ayy, ayy, now she actin' outta pocket  
Tryna grab up from my pants  
Hundred bitches in my trailer say they ain't got a man  
And they all brought a friend  
Yeah, ayy

The room got hot very quickly. One of the other backup dancers had unexpectedly fallen ill, so the director had looked for a replacement for over an hour. After a while, Post Malone had ambled over and somewhat tentatively pointed out Suzaku, suggesting that he could take two roles, both of a Yazuka member and of one of the samurais fighting with the lone swordsman. Initially, the director had protested that everything about Suzaku was inadequate and that everything didn’t fit the artistic vision, particularly Suzaku’s light brown hair. It was both distinctive and something the man didn’t feel like shaving off anytime soon, so there was a natural conflict of interest there. Luckily Suzaku’s new friends in the dizzying heights of popular stardom came to his rescue and the show went on. No-one seemed to care that he was taking the place of a female dancer, and he chose not to bring it up, having already embarrassed himself enough with the whole star wars escapade. 

He pulled at the collar of his suit and focused on following the choreographer’s directions. With a menacing expression, he held the blade out to his side, then slashed it through the air at a lightning speed, enough to cut a man in half if the weapon had not been made out of prop material and deliberately designed to be as harmless as possible in the event of a lawsuit. 

Ayy, ayy, I've been fuckin' hoes and poppin' pillies  
Man, I feel just like a rockstar (star)  
Ayy, ayy, all my brothers got that gas  
And they always be smokin' like a Rasta

Having just had a conversation with the composers of the song, Suzaku tried to force himself to channel some sense of spirit, rather than just enjoying the pure swordsmanship he was rarely able to show off. Gangster; the song was gangster-like, but also melancholy, overhung by the constant threat of your body giving up on you from living fast and dying young, or the hedonistic temptations of stardom. 

“Nice,” the choreographer said, gesturing for him to stop. “Well, if the rest of you just do that, this will be perfect. Let him -” she pointed to Suzaku in the usual anonymity between the famous and the less so, “be the leader, seeing as his sword skills are very realistic. The camera will then blur the rest of you, so all you need to do is match his energy; but for the sake of completion, follow his moves as exactly as you can, only with some delay so that it still appears like an organic battle.”

Someone started clapping. Suzaku turned and gave 21 Savage a thumbs-up before the rapper swaggered up from his seat, striding past Malone’s elaborately lit throne where he’d been lounging to the side of the room where the fake Yazuka were rehearsing. “Let’s take a break?” the choreographer asked, then shrugged and started walking off. 

Fuckin' with me, call up on a Uzi  
And show up, man them the shottas  
When my homies pull up on your block  
They make that thing go grrrata-ta-ta (pow, pow, pow)

“You’ll working so damn hard,” Savage said. “I feel kinda lazy. I’m up soon,” he continued, and Suzaku was reminded of the fact that his laidback attitude may not be entirely organic. “...you guys want to hear something cool?”

“Rap for us,” the guy next to Suzaku demanded, a teenager who looked like he’d come fresh out of high school. 

I've been in the Hills fuckin' superstars  
Feelin' like a popstar (21, 21, 21)  
Drankin' Henny, bad bitches jumpin' in the pool  
And they ain't got on no bra (no bra)  
Hit her from the back, pullin' on her tracks  
And now she screamin' out, "No mas" (yeah, yeah, yeah)  
They like, "Savage, why you got a 12 car garage  
And you only got 6 cars?" (21)

I ain't with the cakin', how you kiss that? (kiss that?)  
Your wifey say I'm lookin' like a whole snack (big snack)  
Green hundreds in my safe, I got old racks (old racks)  
L.A. bitches always askin' "Where the coke at?"

The choreographer wandered back, shaking her head. “Excuse me, I’m from L.A -” she said, and then pointed out the door. “Savage, your section has been relocated, we’ve decided the lighting will be better somewhere smaller.” She flapped her hands, playfully dismissing him, and the young man backed out through the door.  
“That’s why I stick to mumble rap,” he said, “bitches don’t have good enough ears to hear when I mumble.” Suzaku stifled a snort, risking the ire of the choreographer who had just given him the focal position of Yazuka leader. He felt a bump of relief as she mock-frowned at him and then continued teaching. 

Livin' like a rockstar, smash out on a cop car  
Sweeter than a Pop-Tart, you know you are not hard  
I done made the hot chart, 'member I used to trap hard  
Livin' like a rockstar, I'm livin' like a rockstar  
Suzaku felt more comfortable dressed in white. It was a natural outfit of the warrior and he carried himself with even more poise than he had done in the sharp Yazuka suit, making sure he kept as true to the samurai character as he could even with the black lenses of the multiple cameras pointing directly at him. 

Following Malone’s silhouette, recognisable by the distinctly crisp, broad-shouldered suit, he held out the shiny blade in front of him. They were using the classic trick of pressurised pouches filled with fake blood, which would explode at the slightest contact. They had already had a few accidents while filming as everyone tried to get used to the concept; luckily there was a whole rack of fresh outfit changes to match the growing pile of prematurely blood-stained clothes. 

Suzaku made a stern and emotionless face. It was the complete opposite of the role he’d played only an hour before. As the Yazuka leader, he snarled and tried to look as tough as possible, an event that was amusing to behold for those who knew him and knew that he preferred steady, quiet confidence. He’d sent a video to Lelouch, hinting that if his boyfriend turned up tomorrow, he could expect to see more of the same. In response, Lelouch had offered to come to pick him up; Suzaku liked to think it was clearly an excuse for him to meet the Rockstar singer himself. 

He charged forwards, slashing his opponent across the gut, years of intense training kicking in. As they’d been taught, he lifted his knee and mock-drove it into his opponent’s chest before kicking out at the other man’s calf, taking care not to actually hit his leg. Wow, the young stuntman playing the Yazuka was more talented than Suzaku had given him credit for. The expression of pain and massive exhale of breath was almost like he really had been both hurt and winded. Impressive for a newbie. 

Ayy, I've been fuckin' hoes and poppin' pillies  
Man, I feel just like a rockstar (star)  
Ayy, ayy, all my brothers got that gas  
And they always be smokin' like a Rasta

It was when the newbie was still on the floor, hands clutched over his ribcage, that it gradually dawned on Suzaku that he might really be injured. With a flash of concern, he bent down next to him.  
“How are you so strong?” the kid asked, panting for breath. Suzaku shrugged, tempted to ask if this was an elaborate prank. 

Fuckin' with me, call up on a Uzi  
And show up, man them the shottas  
When my homies pull up on your block  
They make that thing go grrrata-ta-ta (pow, pow, pow)

“The camera’s still going,” Malone said with a grin, patting the fallen Yazuka on the back. “This might make an entertaining blooper reel.”  
Suzaku wiped the blood from his forehead, trying to hide a grin at the kid’s inexperience. He was strong, but not stupidly strong, or was he…? He mentally made a note to tell Lelouch. Yes, he’d acted out being a deadly samurai, and a deadly gang member, and in the end, he’d actually injured someone! Lelouch had been right on the money that this was an interesting gig.

Star, star, rockstar, rockstar, star  
Rockstar  
Rockstar, feel just like a rock...  
Rockstar

Malone gave him a fist bump and Suzaku practically bounced his way out of the shooting space, making a beeline for Lelouch’s familiar sports car.  
“Is that him?” Lelouch asked, craning to see through the car’s tinted windows. Suzaku tried to hide a grin, with an unsuccessful scoff, and they shared a chuckle. 

“Yeah, that’s the rockstar.”  
Rockstar  
Rockstar  
Feel just like a…


	3. Suzaku eat that lunch, keep that booty, that natural beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic/Modern AU 
> 
> Lelouch's husband, the voluptuous Suzaku Kururgi-Lamperouge, continues to turn heads.
> 
> Lelouch takes a step back and appreciates Suzaku's figure as they age like fine wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 3rd chapter of this series. I give my sincere and passionate thanks to the commissioned writer for being so understanding and hearing me out as I tell these weird and specific details of what I would love to see featuring those baby, bi, kings/gods. ^^ :D
> 
> THIS STORY IS COMMISSIONED AND WRITTEN BY ZARA_A

_I keep it juicy juicy, I eat that lunch_

_She keep that booty booty,_

_She keep that pump_

_That natural beauty beauty, yeah yeah_

Whenever Lelouch heard one particular song, he’d always get lost in his own thoughts. He’d been teased by it by Suzaku many times, but he couldn’t control the overwhelming sense of nostalgia and affection that overtook him every time the now-familiar beat started pumping. The funny thing was that Suzaku himself didn’t really remember the reason why Lelouch loved the song. Like a fine meal, Lelouch only listened to it occasionally so that he could savour the memory. Perhaps it was his husband’s serious attitude and workaholic nature, but whenever Suzaku saw Lelouch leaning back in his leather work chair with headphones on and eyes closed he assumed the other man was lost listening to some classical music. It seemed a natural assumption that Lelouch was taking a break from his gruelling work, closing his eyes to refresh them against the brightness of his computer screen; getting carried away by one of Bach’s piano concertos, or another equally intellectual piece of fine music.

_If you could see it from the front,_

_Wait till you see it from the back_

_Back, back, back, back, back_

_(Wait till you see it from the)_

_Back, back, yeah, back, back, back_

Suzaku would have been surprised, but perhaps not overly shocked, to find out that he was actually listening to a club song from almost four years ago. It was a beautifully inappropriate song, yet with each repetition, Lelouch grew to be more and more fond of it, just as he grew fonder by the day of the man it reminded him of. After all, it promoted a positive view of one’s own body, and Lelouch couldn’t disagree with that, given he spent the majority of his days at home worshipping his husband’s well-rounded hips.

The nostalgia came from one of their several nights out together. They were younger then, still exuberant in the endless energy of their mid-twenties, rather than entering their early thirties. Now, Lelouch was starting to feel old, even if he rationally knew that this was only the beginning. His muscles ached even days after exercising and he had a liberal handful of greying hairs, which probably wasn’t helped by the endless stress of his job. Unless he stayed vigilant and close to his laptop, he’d miss important client conversations. Lelouch shook his head and restarted the song. He’d missed out on his normal, pure enjoyment of his favourite song because memories and worries of work had crept in.

_(Wait till you see it from the)_

_Back, back, back, back, back_

_If you could see it from the front,_

_Wait till you see it from the back_

The strobe lights danced around them in a frenzy of rainbow and neon, almost blinding Lelouch’s sensitive eyes. The club was packed, obviously, but Lelouch and Suzaku had been to much more crowded places in their student days. In comparison, the limited space on the dancefloor almost felt like they had the place to themselves. After a few drinks, they both lost themselves to the beat, starting to break off from the main gaggle. Suzaku finished his whisky and handed the crystal glass to an attendant, who hastily took it away. It was more of an upper-class establishment, but their combined salary could afford it.

Lelouch uncharacteristically snorted as his husband strutted into a central position, winking at a few of the club’s other patrons as their eyes swivelled towards him. The brunette was dressed pretty simply in a pair of skintight designer jeans and a white t-shirt that showed how tanned he was. Lelouch had made fun of the outfit as they left the house, lightheartedly of course, but pointing out how simple it was. Now he could see that its simplicity highlighted the main event: Suzaku’s incredible body. His thighs were powerfully built from hours spent on the indoor rowing machine and doing squats at the gym. Sure, he was pure muscle, but there was a slight softness to him that made his ass look tempting to grab. Lelouch took a step forwards and then laughed, throwing his head back and letting his husband steal the show. His heart pounded; everyone was watching the man, and yet Lelouch himself was the one in the room who would be with him for life.

_He like the Doja with the cat, yeah_

_He like it thick, he like it fat, yeah_

_Like to keep him wanting more_

_He ask me "Doja, where you at, huh?"_

_And all the bitches wanna know_

_How long it take to pull my pants up_

_Broke a finger, nearly nicked some'in_

_Tryna squeeze into my True Religion denim_

Instead of breaking into typical clubbing moves, Suzaku waited for the next song to begin, taking small, shimmying steps across the floor. He stepped forwards and backwards in front of Lelouch, who was hanging back with crossed arms slightly out of view. With each step, it seemed possible his jeans would split. The fast, light beat of a new song came on. Lelouch winced, then raised his eyebrows, eyes fixed on his husband. Suzaku stretched his arms above his head, t-shirt riding up to show the tiniest glimpse of his tanned stomach, and then spun so that he faced away from Lelouch. He crossed his arms and shook his ass from side to side, legs and back straight like a seductive backup dancer. Lelouch stared as he watched his husband’s muscles shift beneath his swaying backside, amazed at how compelled he felt to touch it. Suzaku gave a small wink before breaking into a full dance routine, an elaborate sequence of head flicks, shimmies and sweeping arm movements towards his considerably sized behind, rolling his hips with the beat.

_Sell it B, don't want your cellulite_

_I don't buy it with the cellulite_

_He said the body unbelievable_

_Can't trust a big butt and a Gemini_

Suzaku ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair, flicking it into a soft tousled look that Lelouch considered incredibly sexy. Mentally, Lelouch took a snapshot of the scene, not wanting to take out his phone and look like a pervert. More than the true sexiness of the dance, and the glorious nature of Suzaku’s body, his husband was radiating the attractive and fun-loving energy that had drawn them to one another in the first place. These were their peak years. Lelouch used his prodigious memory to save the Adonis-like figure of Suzaku silhouetted against the rainbow lights of the club, surrounded by a crowd of admirers, but only really dancing for him. 

_I keep it juicy juicy, I eat that lunch_

_She keep that booty booty,_

_She keep that pump_

_That natural beauty beauty, yeah yeah_

_If you could see it from the front,_

_Wait till you see it from the back_

As the woman singing the song broke into the chorus, Suzaku dropped into a squat, sticking his ass out as he bucked his hips all the way down to the glowing club floor. A murmur went around the floor as he started to twerk. A few of the watchers started to disperse, their tiny attention span dedicated to strangers expiring, but Lelouch couldn’t take his eyes off his husband.

_Back, back, back, back, back_

_(Wait till you see it from the)_

_Back, back, yeah, back, back, back_

_(Wait till you see it from the)_

_Back, back, back, back, back_

_If you could see it from the front,_

_Wait till you see it from the back_

Lelouch, now back in his present day, exhaled and removed his headphones. His shoulders felt less tight as if Suzaku himself had just given him a careful shoulder massage. With a sigh, he closed his laptop. It was probably too early to stop working, but he’d had enough of being locked up in dreary solitude in his study. Suzaku and Lelouch usually worked together in their open plan kitchen, using their laptops across the heavy oak dining table so that they had one another’s company. Unfortunately, Suzaku worked in graphic design, so his workload was incredibly dreary from day to day, and some days he’d get nothing at all: all the more reason for Lelouch to stick to his own consulting job, to keep them both well-kept in their relatively lavish lifestyle. When Lelouch had to make video calls, it was to his private study he had to go, otherwise, Suzaku would inevitably interrupt by accident.

_He spend the racks, he in the trap_

_I'm fit and fat, he live for that_

_Okay, he on the knees,_

_Attend the mass_

_He beg for that, I bend and snap_

_She keep the juicy just for papi_

_Call me boppy with the body_

_I just slipped into my savage_

_And come over like a walky_

Lelouch scrubbed his eyes across his face, blinking the imprint of the screen from his vision. He was ready to refresh his perspective, far too bored by what suddenly felt like the boring mundanity of his life in comparison to the fun, booze-soaked memories of his and his husband’s wilder days. As he walked into the kitchen, he was met with the sight of Suzaku chugging a glass of water, still wearing his gym kit.

Like my fish like takamaki,

Like a side of me with sake

So I put it in my mouth and suck it, I

like edamame, yeah

Hourglass coke bottle body

“Have a good workout?” Lelouch asked, reaching for another tumbler and splashing it carelessly under the tap. “You’re glowing.”

  
“Yeah, it was pretty good,” Suzaku said. He carefully put his glass aside and mimicked weightlifting, thrusting imaginary weights up into the air and then settling into a deep squat. “I’m ready for dinner though. What were you thinking of making?”

In his crab-like stance, he half-squatted and half-walked so that he was mere inches away from Lelouch’s legs, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

Lelouch’s hobby was cooking. He preferred to cook savoury meals, which suited them both, but wasn’t above trying out a fancy, complicated dessert recipe when work got really stressful. Like most chefs, Lelouch was fairly apathetic about the food he made, although he recognised it was tasty when he sat down to eat it with Suzaku. However, his husband loved to eat and had slowly gone from someone who loved takeout fried chicken to somewhat of a gourmet.

“We’ve got salmon in the fridge,” Lelouch noted, opening up his big, stainless steel fridge. It was an expensive investment, but worth it given the day-to-day happiness it brought them both. Lelouch got his from cooking and making exciting meals for his husband, while Suzaku simply loved to eat and fuel his strong body. Now they were older, both these habits were starting to show. Lelouch’s lack of exercise and bodybuilding meant he maintained his slender, lanky form even from his college days - he’d never been one to easily build muscle, anyway. In comparison, Suzaku had gained a little weight, both muscle and a hint of softness. It suited him, as if he was growing into his body as he got older, at a time when most people completely lost their fitness from metabolic decline and laziness. In the meantime, Suzaku had become bootylicious.

_I got that, we got time and_

_You're right on that_

_When I turn around and touch_

_It keep your eyes on that, that, that’lI keep it juicy juicy, I eat that lunch_

_She keep that booty booty,_

_She keep that pump_

They both settled down at their polished dining table. Lelouch delicately cut into the fillet of salmon in front of him, scooping a little creme fraiche onto his forkful. The pink-red fish rested on a generous bed of wild rice mixed with lentils, all covered in a light, sharp sauce and accompanied by pan-fried vegetables. It was easy for Lelouch to make a luxurious, healthy meal, but harder to eat it given he had an almost perpetual knot of anxiety in his stomach. Optimistically, he’d served himself and Suzaku the same portion, but about halfway through the meal, it became clear he wasn’t going to be able to finish it.

Lelouch tried to push through, for the sake of gaining some weight so he could near the glorious, muscled heft of his husband, so they could dance together in the club rather than Suzaku alone, but his stomach was full. He set down his knife and fork down with a sigh and looked up into Suzaku’s concerned eyes.

_That natural beauty beauty, yeah yeah_

_If you could see it from the front,_

_Wait till you see it from the back_

_Back, back, back, back, back_

_(Wait till you see it from the)_

The song swam around in Lelouch’s head as he prepared to explain himself to Suzaku. They never kept secrets from one another, but it was an effort for Lelouch to constantly be open. After all, he didn’t want his husband to think he had an ungodly, kinky obsession with asses, but...well, all the years with the owner of one such asset had made Lelouch desperate to get in on the action. He was even willing to start seriously weightlifting - but the main hurdle was his perpetual lack of appetite.

_Back, back, yeah, back, back, back_

_(Wait till you see it from the)_

_Back, back, back, back, back_

_If you could see it from the front,_

_Wait till you see it from the back_

“Suzaku, you’re just so - well -”

Suzaku raised his eyebrows. “So what? So handsome and charming?”  
“Well, yes,” Lelouch said, and then added somewhat lamely, “you’ve just got such a juicy body, you know?”  
“I do have a magnificent ass,” Suzaku said. “Juicy, what? Like the song?” He added the last part absently, having not obsessed over the song for as long as Lelouch had, and fairly unaware of what the song represented.

“I just feel like I’m...oh, never mind. It sounds stupid,” Lelouch said. He was pretty sure the genetic ability to have a thick, round, peach-like ass had escaped him, so he might as well give up now.  
  
“Well, you’ve got a beautiful body too,” Suzaku said, reaching over the table and taking hold of the other man’s hand. “I mean, I might have got a little fat, but there’s certainly nothing wrong with that. You’re nice and trim!”  
Lelouch sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “Too much so. But I can’t seem to eat enough.”  
“I wish I was a good enough cook to tempt you as you tempt me,” Suzaku said, cheeks flushing at the unintended innuendo.

_He like it pump, he need that_

_Need the rump and need the thighs_

_He eat that, eat that up_

_And in the night, he see that in the dark_

_And in the ride he keep that,_

_Keep it running like it plug_

“I like to take care of you,” Lelouch said. “You deserve it.”  
“And you, my dear, deserve all the love and affection in the world,” Suzaku said quietly, “no matter whether you have a big ass or a small one.”

“It would help though...if I did the stuff you did. Workout and everything.”

  
“Why don’t you join me at the gym? Your health comes before your work, after all. And I can try cooking you some higher density meals, take the pressure of cooking off you…” Suzaku smiled. “And besides, you know what I love about you more than your striking appearance?”  
It was Lelouch’s turn to blush. “No?”  
“You’re so smart it’s insane. I wish I could have a memory like yours; the way you juggle clients all day long is crazy. I think you’re the best financial consultant in the world!”

_He like it pump, he need that_

_Need the rump and need the thighs_

_He eat that, eat that up_

_And in the night, he see that in the dark_

They both stood up at the same time and went in for a cuddle. “Remember that time you danced in the club?” Lelouch said, and then realised how vague it sounded. “You twerked in front of everyone. It was the first time I’d seen you dance like that.”  
“Bet you’re sick of my awesome moves by now,” Suzaku said with a chuckle, laughing into the crook of Lelouch’s neck. “What do they say? If you’ve got it, flaunt it.”  
“True,” Lelouch muttered. “it really is your song,” he added wistfully. “Every time I hear that song, I think about how lucky I am to be your husband.”  
“Not just for my booty, I hope,” Suzaku joked. “Although I know you’re above such base delights.”  
  


Lelouch snaked a long-fingered hand around their tight embrace and slowly trailed it down Suzaku’s back, a smile across his face as he felt his husband move to the touch, moving towards the caress.

_And in the ride he keep that, keep it running_

_I keep it juicy juicy, I eat that lunch_

_She keep that booty booty,_

_She keep that pump_

  
He grabbed a handful of firm yet slightly plump ass and lightly squeezed in a tempting way. Suzaku leant backwards to check Lelouch’s expression, and see if he was serious or not.  
“I mean, we have just eaten,” Suzaku said, meeting Lelouch’s teasing eyes.

“Oh, you need to let your food go down now?” Lelouch said with a smirk.

“Gotta keep this ass looking fine,” Suzaku said, slapping it, and then hesitated. “Or are you serious?” He mock-narrowed his eyes.

“What would you say if I was?” Lelouch grinned.

Suzaku shrugged, taking hold of Lelouch’s hand and whisking him around, leading him towards the door, deliberately rolling his round hips. “I’d say - let’s get upstairs. As soon as possible.”  
  


_That natural beauty beauty, yeah yeah_

_If you could see it from the front,_

_Wait till you see it from the back_

_Back, back, back, back, back_

_(Wait till you see it from the)_

_Back, back, yeah, back, back, back_

_(Wait till you see it from the)_

_Back, back, back, back, back_

_If you could see it from the front,_

_Wait till you see it from the back_


End file.
